


Oz Hardtime100 Drabbles 71-80

by Severina



Category: Oz (1997)
Genre: Community: hardtime100
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-08-24
Updated: 2009-08-24
Packaged: 2017-10-09 19:16:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/90647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Severina/pseuds/Severina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>10 more drabbles written for the prompts at LJ's Hardtime100 Community.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oz Hardtime100 Drabbles 71-80

**71.  
Title:** Keeping Occupied  
**Prompt:** 71 - Games  
**Timeframe:** Season Four  
**Written:** August 20, 2009  
**Word Count:** 100

Chess for those who haven't burned out their brains on the booze and the tits, and checkers for the ones who have. Pinochle for the Italians. Poker for everyone -- they wager with matchsticks, with porn mags, with candy from the commissary. They wager for honour, for bragging rights, for favours, and on one memorable occasion in the case of the Brotherhood, for the sexual services of a seventeen year old fish with a remarkable resemblance to a young Brad Pitt.

Naturally, some prefer another type of game. The mind game.

After Chris is transferred, Toby vows to stick to chess.

 

**72.  
Title:** Good Work  
**Prompt:** 72 - Peter Marie  
**Timeframe:** Season Four  
**Written:** August 20, 2009  
**Word Count:** 100

A cardboard box.

Satin floral robe adorned with pale green ribbons. Charming teapot with matching demitasse cups. Framed and unframed photos of Christ. A quantity of yarn, the red kinky from previous use.

Peter Marie prayed.

Saw Mary at the shelter cooing over the robe. Gladys at the nursing home cradling the delicate teapot in time-wrinkled hands. Yarn transformed into warm winter scarves.

She carefully gathered the varied items and placed them back into the box. Squared her shoulders as she hefted it in her arms.

"Leaving early, Pete?" Ray asked.

Sister Pete nodded. "I've got some errands to run."

 

**73.  
Title:** Kick  
**Prompt:** 73 - Picture This (must include a photograph)  
**Timeframe:** Season Six  
**Written:** August 20, 2009  
**Word Count:** 100

Agent Taylor lines up the photos neatly on the table.

Bryce Tibbets. Mark Karachi. Byam Lewis.

All of them young, blond, fresh-faced. Innocent.

They could be me, a lifetime ago.

Taylor describes the ligature marks, the anal tearing, the blood. The professional snap of the neck that killed them. I maintain my poker-face all the way back to the pod, where I spend the next hour dry-heaving over the toilet, trying to reconcile these new images with the Chris Keller I know.

What seemed inconceivable is suddenly possible. I could take the deal.

And the kicker?

I still love him.

 

**74.  
Title:** Alive  
**Prompt:** 74 - Wet  
**Timeframe:** Season Four  
**Written:** August 21, 2009  
**Word Count:** 100

On the day that Beecher dons the orange jumpsuit, goes to the city, and testifies about the riot, it rains.

Transportation back to Oz is delayed by the sudden squall. The guards huddle under the dubious shelter of the overhang at the back door of the courthouse, holding their cigarettes in cupped palms. But Beecher takes a few shuffling steps forward, and when he isn't stopped, upturns his face to the downpour. The winds buffet his body and billow his coat, his hair is plastered to his head within moments, and his teeth chatter.

He loves every minute of it.

 

**75.  
Title:** Positive  
**Prompt:** 75 - Share and Share Alike  
**Timeframe:** Season Six  
**Written:** August 21, 2009  
**Word Count:** 100

"Did you hear?" O'Reily asks. "Robson's got AIDS."

"He doesn't have AIDS," Beecher says. "He's HIV positive."

"What's the fuckin' difference?" O'Reily mumbles around a mouthful of egg. "You had his dick in your mouth, Beecher. You better get tested."

"I'm not HIV positive."

"It might be a good idea to make sure, just in case," Rebadow says. "And Tobias," he continues tentatively, "you should let Chris Keller know as well."

"I'm not HIV positive!" Beecher insists. "I got tested when I was out."

O'Reily smiles grimly. "I guess it's a good thing those Nazi fucks don't like to share."

 

**76.  
Title:** Silence  
**Prompt:** 76 - Free For All (any topic)  
**Timeframe:** Season Three  
**Written:** August 21, 2009  
**Word Count:** 100

The worst thing about not having a pod-mate is the silence. You may dislike the fucker, you may never want to see his face, you _may_ have shanked him while he was stacking paper in the copy room. But at least he's there. Maybe murmuring in his sleep. At least you hear a cough, the rustle of blankets, the slick slide of skin on skin as he jerks off in the bunk below you.

Without him, you fill the silence with a never-ending slideshow of Kathy Metzger Keller Andy. And the only sound you hear is your own harsh breathing.

 

**77.  
Title:** Therapy  
**Prompt:** 77 - Dear Diary  
**Timeframe:** Season Three  
**Written:** August 21, 2000  
**Word Count:** 100

When the casts come off, Sister Pete thinks it's a good idea for him to keep a journal. She calls it therapeutic. Beecher calls it a load of horseshit (privately, of course) but dutifully accepts the leather volume.

The journal is kept in her office. Sister Pete assures him that she will never read it, but Beecher isn't sure he can trust her -- isn't sure that he can trust anyone, ever again -- so he writes neatly and fills the lined pages with what he thinks she'd like to see.

If he filled them with truth, the pages would be black.

 

**78.  
Title:** Remember  
**Prompt:** 78 - Sum-sum-summertime  
**Timeframe:** Season Four  
**Written:** August 24, 2009  
**Word Count:** 100

There is no summer in Oz. The recycled air has no scent. There are no ants to interrupt our meals, no bees to flit above our head.

For most of the inmates, who pass from cell to dress factory to infirmary to morgue along lengthy inner corridors, the seasons have ceased to exist. They are something vaguely remembered, like fast food and children's laughter.

I have some advantages, though. The large window in Sister Pete's office, through which I can feel the sunshine on my face. The coconut scent of sun-block on my daughter's skin.

I breathe in, and remember.

 

**79.  
Title:** Fireballs  
**Prompt:** 79 - Commerce  
**Timeframe:** Season Five  
**Written:** August 24, 2009  
**Word Count:** 100

Howell's a fat fuckin' cunt, but a pussy's a pussy, especially when you're in the joint. And my dick ain't ever been very particular about what hole it gets stuck in.

Still, when she's gone, I rinse my mouth about fifty times before I sit on the bed and inhale the thick, sickly-sweet smell of sugar from the paper bag.

Breathe in. Gotta make it last.

Can't take it no more. I pop one in my mouth.

Atomic Fireballs taste like cinnamon-flavoured deodorant. I can't fuckin' believe this is Toby's favourite candy.

I'm gonna eat every last one.

 

**80.  
Title:** Mail Call  
**Prompt:** 80 - Postcards From The Road  
**Timeframe:** Season Four  
**Written:** August 24, 2009  
**Word Count:** 100

As Keller paged through his new _Sports Illustrated_ and Hill eagerly pawed at a letter from Annabella, Beecher struggled not to be disappointed. He knew nothing was going to change for him until Vern was out of the mailroom.

"Ryan," Cyril whined, "why don't I get any mail?"

Beecher made a call to Angus that afternoon. They got Holly's school involved, and Holly's teacher contacted other schools.

By the end of the month Vern was cursing as he lugged two carts and several oversized mailbags stuffed with postcards, daily, for a delirious Cyril O'Reily.

Beecher laughed. Suck on it, Vern.


End file.
